


Dance with me

by Crazy_little_witch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Retirement, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 10:18:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_little_witch/pseuds/Crazy_little_witch
Summary: It's Greg's farewell party from the NSY, when Sherlock joins him. Will they finally get, what they both wanted for so long?





	Dance with me

**Author's Note:**

> I found my notes for this one and finally had the time to finish it.
> 
> I'm not a native speaker, so just let me know about any mistakes you'd like me to correct.
> 
> The characters belong to ACD, the BBC and the great Mofftiss. No money is made by this.
> 
> I love kudos and comments, so let me know what you think about this story.
> 
> Enjoy :)

It was late and the party was slowly petering out. Greg looked around, lost in thought. It had been one of the better farewell parties he was forced to endure over the course of his career. But as this was his own, the melancholy hit him hard. There had been speeches of course, his bosses talking about his outstanding success and high case solving rate. But it had been clear, all of them were more than glad to be rid of him.

Greg pressed his lips together. He had sacrificied his life for his job and the city. And all he got in return was a handshake and a badge of honor. And with that they had kicked him out, arguing he was too old, too wary. God, he was annoying himself with this bitterness. To distract himself, he lifted his cup of beer to take another mouthful, just to notice it was empty again. With a dejected sigh he made his way through the room to the bar. How many of these did he already have? Slightly disgusted, he realized he didn't know. While debating with himself, whether he should get another one or not, he took a look at his watch. 10 PM, good. He could leave soon.

„You're planning on leaving already?“ With a little yelp he looked to his right. He didn't think the Consulting Detective would actually come, so he was pleasantly surprised. „Hey, Sherlock. To be fair, the party is almost over.“ He pointed to the rapidly dwindling crowd of guests. Just about a dozen fellow police men were still on the dance floor, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings. „They just didn't notice yet.“ His laugh was full of affection. Maybe he would miss something about these gatherings... And probably he had actually gone mad over the last years, when even Sherlock's sheer presence was enough for Greg seeing NSY through rose-coloured glasses. But, to be honest, that's how it's always been for him. Having Sherlock by his side, made everything more... bearable.

Both men got themselves a beer and wandered back to a free table, sitting down. Greg saw Sherlock sipping his beer, than grimacing from the corner of his eye. „You don't have to drink the bear, mate.“ He knew he sounded too fond. But he couldn't stop himself. Sherlock coughed. „I've watched you.“ His voice was hoarse. Greg was dumbfounded. Sherlock had watched him? Why? How long? And why??? „Huh?“ It was Sherlock's turn to laugh at the other man. „Yes, very eloquent, Greg. How many beers did you drink?“ The former DI huffed, although he had to admit to himself, that Sherlock definitely had a point. He put his beer down as well. Determined to stick to water for the rest of the evening.

Nevertheless he couldn't think of a single reason, why his friend should watch him. Did he miss something? Confused he scratched his neck, trying to think of something to say. His mind was blank. A long, low sigh was all he got. „You're starring.“ Huh... He felt the blush rising to his ears and really tried to stop, tried to look somewhere else. But the feeling, that he really had missed a vital point of their conversation grew. After a few minutes of silence, Sherlock sighed again, than leaned in and took Greg's hand. What the...

„Would you dance with me, Greg?“ Greg met Sherlock's steady gaze and swallowed hard. That wasn't what he'd expected... At all. Sherlock's thumb carressed the tender skin and both man looked down to watch. Sherlock's voice was a mere whisper. „There's something, I've always wanted to tell you, but...“ he faltered. Suddenly Greg felt lightheaded. Was this a dream? It wasn't possible, that the great Sherlock Holmes tried to confess his love, was it? He didn't dare to move. If it was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

He waited for Sherlock to finish his sentence, but he kept his silence. Greg looked around the room, considering what to do. They had walked this line for so many years, that Greg hadn't believed they would ever cross it. For Sherlock making the first move now,... well, in for a penny... „I'd love to dance.“ Sherlock looked up, eyes wide with surprise. And although the lights were dimmed, he could have sworn Sherlock blushed.

Greg ignored the stupefied whisper around them. It didn't matter anymore, what his former colleagues thought about him and the detective. They stood in the middle of the dancefloor, watching eachother. Being so close, Greg could see that by now even Sherlocks showed signs of aging. The hair at his temples had gone grey and there were tiny lines around his eyes. Sherlock was one of those men who got more attractive the older the got.

Greg stepped right into the younger man's personal space and pulled him close. Their chests were touching and he felt the warmth the other was radiating. It felt comfortable, familiar, like... „Home, this feels like coming home.“ Embarrassment coloured his cheeks and he hid his face on Sherlock's shoulder.

„For me too...“ It took Greg a moment to understand what Sherlock had said. But than happiness surged through him and he sucked in a quick breath. They still moved to the slow music, but Sherlock let go of Greg's left hand to tilt his head up. Their eyes met, before Sherlock looked down at the older man's lips, slightly parted in surprise. „Greg...“ Both question and answer.

„Yes...“ a breathless whisper. Sherlock leant in and their lips met for the first time in a tentative first kiss. Holding on to Sherlock's slim waist with both hands, Greg deepened the kiss, intending to never let go of the man he had loved for so long.

Suddenly his future didn't look quite as sad as he thought.


End file.
